T is for Tuesday
by Jncera
Summary: T is for Troll; T is for Testing the Limit of Arty's Self-Control. Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon trolling Artemis Crock at school? Of course it was bound to happen. Requested by crunchydill on Tumblr. Part 2 of Satellites on Parade's 'Routines'.


**A/N:** Requested by **crunchydill** on Tumblr, who wanted Dick trolling Artemis at school with some help from Barbara.

This is actually **PART 2** of **Satellites on Parade's** (much better) _**Routines**_, which takes place on Monday and also showcases some excellent Dick- and Babs-trolling, so make sure to party rock and shuffle over to that story afterwards (or before you read this; whatever floats your party-rocking-boat).

Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice, or Justice League.

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><p><em><strong>T is for Tuesday<br>T is for Troll  
>T is for Testing the Limit of Arty's Self-Control<strong>_

_Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon trolling Artemis Crock at school? _Of course_ it was bound to happen._

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><p>The only thing Artemis hated more than Mondays were Tuesdays—they were always guaranteed to be worse.<p>

Tuesdays meant having to lug the memories of Monday, along with shouldering the ennui of yet another day at school. At least on Mondays, weekend memories were fresh, and the sleep-bank was rolling in dough. But by Tuesday, Artemis was already mentally throwing up her hands and wanting to yell out the three-word phrase that began with "fuck" and ended with "shit".

And to make matters worse, Wally seemed to have established texting her about his empty-stomach agony as a daily and concrete hobby of his.

"the person in front of me has a pic of nachos on their shirt"

"why would they do that to me"

"this is torture"

"must have nachos"

"now"

Artemis groaned. Five texts in a row—_five texts in a row_ and it was only 8:32 AM. At this rate, Wally was going to make her phone explode from his whiney vomit by the end of the day. Sure enough, when lunchtime rolled around, Artemis had already received _twenty-five_ messages from him—none of which she had actually replied to other than with a roll of her eyes and extremely exasperated sighs.

And that same plastic cling-wrap of exasperation seemed determined to follow her static electric charge, and to her dismay, seemed to have tagged along to lunch.

Artemis dumped herself at the table across from Dick and Barbara with an exhausted sigh. Both nodded to acknowledge her presence, but remained silent as they watched the TV screen behind her.

Sometimes Artemis wondered if Gotham Academy had such large coffers that they really did not know what to do with all the gold and green. (For example, there was a man-made waterfall next to the outdoor basketball courts. _Really?_ How was that logical in the slightest bit?) The cafeteria—or _dining hall_, as the posh inhabitants were determined to call it—was not only lined with cathedral-like floor-to-ceiling windows, but sleek flat-screen televisions as well.

(Well, it certainly was absolutely _splendid_ to know that Gotham Academy students regularly struggled over which channel to watch during lunch, while her old high-school, Gotham North, struggled with just trying to provide enough desks and books due to budget-cuts.)

But truthfully, she enjoyed the company of her two silent friends—it definitely was a welcome reprieve from the constant buzzing of her phone and Wally's self-proclaimed nervous and physical breakdowns.

Wait—apparently she spoke too soon.

The morning news was replaying on the screen they were watching, and soon Babs turned to Dick and a conversation revolving around superheroes emerged.

Artemis later regretted she had not taken that cue for her to bolt out of the dining hall. Hindsight was _always_ twenty-twenty.

"So Dick," Babs began casually, "who's your favorite in the Justice League?"

"Mmm, I don't know, Batman _is_ pretty extraordinary," he answered with a grin. "But do you know who adds another 'extra' to 'extraordinary'? _Robin_."

"Robin? Oh, I think he's more _ordinary_ than extraordinary," Babs teased.

"But what he lacks in powers he makes up for with unparallel intelligence, years of acrobatic training, and a _whole lot of charm_," he countered.

"Charm? What charm? Lucky Charms the cereal?"

He continued to grin and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms and then folding them dramatically behind his head in an air of pompous pride. "I heard he's _quite_ popular with the ladies, with or without cereal, because he's 'real' without the 'ce'."

Babs rolled her eyes and looked back to her lunch.

Dick nodded at Artemis, who had been half-listening to their conversation while simultaneously eating and shooting daggers at her phone (and telepathically at Wally).

"How about you, Artemis?" he asked. "Got a favorite Leaguer? Or perhaps," he added with a smirk, "a_ superhero-crush_?"

She snorted through her nose mid-chew and looked up at him. "Ha," she replied after swallowing. "No thanks."

He tapped his chin and feigned a look of pensive wonder. "Hmm, I think you're Kid Flash's type."

Artemis practically choked on her pasta and had to thank her talented strength of will in preventing the contents of her mouth from becoming abstract art on Dick's facetious grin.

Dick turned to Barbara and elbowed her in the side. "Right Babs?"

She nodded and focused her attention on Artemis, giving her a playful once-over. "_Definitely_ Kid Flash's type," she agreed, her eyes glinting.

Artemis's jaw dropped, and she could have sworn she almost dislocated it. "WHAT?"

"You both have that spunk going on," Dick pointed out, completely abandoning his lunch and the TV screen for the current live entertainment.

"_Spunk?_" Artemis repeated incredulously.

"Well," he continued to secretly goad, "maybe Kid Flash is more 'punk' than 'spunk', but if you two were to ever meet in real life, I bet it'll be love at first sight." He topped off his sentence with a bright ingenuous smile.

Artemis simply stared wordlessly at the boy across from her, unsure if she had just consumed a hallucinogen hidden in her pasta, or those _clearly fallacious and vile _words had really come from behind that mischievous expression of his.

"I take your silence as agreement," he continued smugly.

Artemis instantly snapped out of her silent gawking reverie. "Hell no!" she cried, loud enough to make a few neighboring tables turn to frown at her. "If you take silence as an agreement then I will gladly run through the school screaming at the top of my lungs!"

Dick snickered. "Why? Have you ever met Kid Flash?"

Her demeanor suddenly retreated into one of nervousness. _A million middle-fingers to you too, wretched inability to lie._

"I, uh, um, _no_," she finally sputtered out.

Dick tilted his chair backwards, precariously yet gracefully balancing it on two legs as it mimicked a meditative rocking-chair. "Then how do you know he's not your type?"

Artemis released a slow exhale and pinched the bridge of her nose. "_Why_ are we having this conversation again?" _Why are we having this conversation _at all?

"Because," answered Babs simply, "Dick and I think you and Kid Flash would make _the_ cutest couple."

Artemis grimaced. "And once again, I ask: _why?_"

"Hmm, well," began Babs, "it would be a crime to not put two good-looking people as Kid Flash and yourself together."

Artemis looked warily at Dick and Babs's plates. _Did she just call Wally good-looking?_ _Is there something poisoning their minds here?_

"And I heard he's quite the science-wiz, so you two can join each other in nerd-topia," added Dick.

"I've also heard he has a fiery wit that could match yours."

"He's also apparently quite the charmer—although, not as charming as Robin, of course."

"And you _can't_ deny that toned body!"

As Artemis looked from Dick to Babs as they listed out all their (_false! Wholly false!_) arguments, a queasy feeling crept into the pit of her stomach. One more peep about her and Wally's "compatibility", and she was going to up-chuck everything until there was no more up to chuck.

"You okay there?" spoke Babs with a tinge of genuine concern. "You're looking a bit green."

Artemis didn't answer, because that would mean she had to open her mouth—an action she currently didn't trust herself to carry out anytime soon.

"Oh, speaking of green," Dick interjected, leaning forward with a loud clunking noise as all four legs of his chair took root again, "I heard Green Arrow got a new side-kick."

"What happened to his old one, Speedy?" Babs inquired.

"Apparently he went solo and now goes by Red Arrow," he answered, picking up his fork again.

"So who's the new guy?"

"_Girl_ actually," Dick corrected her, "from what I've heard."

Artemis frowned at him. Paranoia replaced nausea, and she finally trusted her sphincter muscles to speak again. "Um, and you heard this from, _where_, exactly?"

He stabbed a cherry tomato with his fork and waved it in the air while grinning at her. "Neither here nor there, but sometimes everywhere and mostly anywhere."

She narrowed her eyes. There _had_ to be a magical formula somewhere to force Dick Grayson to stop speaking in riddles, and she vowed to find it before she resorted to either punching him, or tearing her hair out. The former was probably more likely, and better on her end (and scalp).

Babs also returned her focus to her plate of food and started pushing her salad around. "So how does the new girl compare to Red Arrow?" she questioned nonchalantly.

"No idea, but I'm sure she manages… Hey! I think _she_ would actually be _perfect_ for Kid Flash!"

And to make matters about an infinite times worse (although Artemis didn't conceive it could actually be possible), Wally had to choose _that exact_ moment to send her a message that just _had to say_: "so my friends are pairing up superheroes they think would make cute couples and I just want to say I hate you I hate you so much for existing."

Artemis dragged a hand down her face and resisted the urge to smash her head against the table. There was something _terribly wrong _with the universe today.

Tuesdays: they were always guaranteed to be worse than Mondays—_always._


End file.
